


Puck You

by Know_Your_Paradoxes



Category: Skeptical (Webcomic)
Genre: Big Gay Nerds, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Fluff and Crack, Gay, Homophobic Language, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pretending to be straight, Realization, Shitty Dudes Being Shitty Dudes, Two Bros Bein' Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Know_Your_Paradoxes/pseuds/Know_Your_Paradoxes
Summary: Noah's been afraid of being gay his entire life.
So when he goes to a college party with a friend and meets a strange guy in a black baseball cap and realizes he thinks he's kinda hot, he's naturally terrified.
(a.k.a. my buddy made me write/ship this)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaveHarley (NedandChuck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NedandChuck/gifts).



"Dude, everybody who's anybody is going to be there. If you wanna get in good with the honies in the sororities, you've gotta show. Seriously, it's going to be the best party ever."

"Listen, Ryan, I believe you, but I'm not really feeling up to goin' out tonight." Noah Clark rolled his eyes at the notion. He wasn't really feeling up to going anywhere, and he was even less feeling like going anywhere with Ryan. What if some people got the wrong idea, since they spent so much time together? If he wanted to get in good with the girls at the nearby colleges, he needed to go it alone.

Ryan groaned on the other end of the phone. "Fine, dude. But if you don't show, I'll tell the guys that you're gay. And you don't want that, now do you?"

Noah gulped a little. He was scared. He had always been embedded in the belief that homosexuality was wrong. He had never been taught that by his mom and dad, or by anyone else that he could remember. He'd just always believed that in his heart. It was simply a part of him. "You're telling me that either I go to the party with you and be accused of being a homo by the people that see us together, or I don't go and be accused of being a homo by my closest friends." Noah tried to keep a calm composure, but he was very clearly a little on edge.

Ryan seemed to nod, despite Noah not being able to see him moving at all. "Yep, basically."

"Well, I guess I better go to the party then." Noah sighed and walked into his bedroom, still holding his phone. "I'll drive over by myself, though. Alright? I don't want anybody to get the wrong idea."

"Whatever you say, man. Now, remember, the party starts at ten." Ryan's tone was that of a teacher's, trying to get Noah to remember the exact time that the party began. Noah grunted in response.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. See ya there."

Noah took the phone away from his ear and put it onto his bed, sitting down next to where he had tossed the phone. He laid back until he was lying across his bed horizontally and staring at the ceiling. "Fuck," he muttered to himself. He hated the idea of an ultimatum against him, but he had to admit, Ryan's tactics were incredibly effective, despite the bastard only getting a C in Psychology. He was already in Noah's head.

After a couple minutes of thinking, Noah sat up and grabbed a pair of pants that had been lying spread across the bed near him and his phone. "These'll do, I guess," he said, checking to make sure that they weren't dirty. Once they were on, he grabbed his phone.

"NOAH FUCKING CLARK, WHERE DID YOU PUT THE LEFTOVER LASAGNA?!" exclaimed Izzy. The suddenness of the yelling was enough to make Noah drop his phone face-down straight onto the floor.

He immediately reached down to pick up the phone, checking for any new cracks on the screen. "SHOULD BE IN THE FRIDGE, IF YOU'D STOP BEING A USELESS LESBIAN AND ACTUALLY LOOK FOR SHIT AROUND THE HOUSE!" he replied, shoving his newly chipped phone into his front pocket.

Before walking out, he looked into the mirror at himself. He looked no different than he usually did. It was just more that he looked a bit less... lively, he supposed was the word for it. He looked dead, like a zombie trying to go the party with its friend. He looked utterly tired, to the bone. His eyes had dark purple bags underneath them, and his five-o'clock shadow was becoming increasingly dark and apparent and less like a five-o'clock shadow and more like a full beard. His skin was a bit paler than normal, and his arm muscles seemed a little less defined than usual. For some reason, he saw himself and saw a weak person -- someone that more than likely wouldn't be able to get a woman to date him at the sorority.

This wasn't the Noah Clark that he knew and had once seen in the mirror. This was a completely different person, and one that he couldn't recognize at all as his own reflection. Noah Clark wasn't lifeless. Noah Clark would've been excited to attend the party and meet girls. Noah Clark would've said yes in a heartbeat instead of turning Ryan down previously.

But no matter who this new person was, he still had to live in their body, regardless, so he may as well make the most of what he has, he supposed.

* * *

"YO! Clark, my man! Why'd it take so long for you to get here?" Ryan asked, a red Solo cup in hand, full of cheap beer. "Don't worry, this is only my second," he continued, seemingly reading Noah's expression.

Noah chuckled awkwardly. "Y-Yeah, just a bit of car trouble." That was a lie through his teeth. He didn't want to be here. He would've much rather stayed at home and done something with his siblings and Chip than been here dancing with people he didn't even know. "But I fixed it easily. Just a tire change. Nothing major. But the major thing is that I'm here, dude!"

Ryan seemed to buy his horrible excuse. "That's cool, bro. Hey, I wanted to introduce you to the coolest dude at this fucking party."

Noah was immediately disinterested in anything that Ryan was telling him, halfheartedly following behind his friend as they waded through the crowds of people. For a frat party, it was surprisingly extensive, and there was a lot of room, all things considered. Scattered shouts could be heard from opposite corners of the Haus (as Noah believed he had heard some guy with a mustache call it, explicitly mentioning it's Germanness). Shouts ranging from "I MADE MORE PIES Y'ALL!" to "NURSEY SUCKS AND I'M GONNA DRINK TO FORGET MY BEEF WITH HIM FOR RIGHT NOW!" (and more than a few conversations between males and females alike about the butt of a certain guy at the party) flooded Noah's eardrums all at once, the sound on the brink of unbearability, but just barely missing the mark.

The two kept walking, towards a beer pong table, where a guy wearing a black snapback hat was currently aiming his shot against an Asian girl with an asymmetric haircut and a beanie. "You gonna give up yet, Duan?" asked the guy.

"In your dreams, Parse. It's still your move," the girl replied, a smug smirk on her face.

Noah watched as the man in the baseball hat bit his lip and weighed the pros and cons of every single shot. Watching him was fascinating. He looked so intent on winning the game, and his focused faces were all just as attractive as the previous. He didn't even realize that he was considering him attractive until he had taken the shot; seeing him focus was so enamoring that Noah had been completely lost.

Ryan, on his right, was screaming and cheering the guy's name: Parse. Noah wasn't sure what it was short for, but he liked it. "GO PARSE! KICK HER ASS!" Ryan screamed, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Noah didn't say anything, instead choosing just to continue watching Parse lick his lips as he concentrated on where the girl was about to target. He didn't even know the guy and he was already staring. He had always thought that finding guys attractive was wrong, but here he was, and there Parse was, looking nearly damn perfect in every sense of the word as he lined up another shot against the girl's side of the table. With the hand he wasn't using to hold the ball, he adjusted his hat, revealing tufts of blonde underneath.

"I've always had a thing for blondes," Noah muttered under his breath. He looked down at the floor, then to his shoes, hearing the distinct plink of the ping pong ball against the table. Milliseconds later, there were deep cheers all around them. Parse had gotten one of Duan's cups, so now it was her turn to chug the contents.

"Drink up, Lardo," Parse said, with a cocky grin plastered from ear to ear. He turned to everyone around him and winked at the crowd. The girls on his side swooned, and Noah's heart leapt a little in his chest. Then, for a brief moment, ever so fleeting, the two of them locked eyes. It was only hundredths of a second long, but those precious moments were captivating. "I'm planning on getting a double now, so don't enjoy the aftertaste just yet."

Even his trash talk was somehow attractive.

An elbow against his side woke Noah from his glamour-induced stupor. "What the hell, dude? You've just been staring at Kent Parson for the entire time we've been here. You didn't even cheer for him, you weirdo," Ryan said, with a confused expression.

Noah awkwardly laughed. "Ha, sorry. I must've spaced. Y'know me, I've always been a lightweight. Already drunk and I've only had one and a half cups."

His lie wasn't necessary completely false, it was just false in the sense that it wasn't the reason why Noah was spacing out and staring at the boy wearing the black and white flannel. Another shot, and a miss. "Oh, yeah. I always forgot how much of a pussy you are, dude." Ryan laughed and put a hand onto Noah's shoulder, patting it. He then yelled, "GOOD SHOT PARSE!"

Parse seemed to acknowledge Ryan's encouragement, because he gave a tiny nod down at the table.

Lardo (or, at the very least, who he could assume was maybe Lardo considering the person who Parse was probably talking to) lined up her shot and fired, swishing into the middle cup with ease. "Ah, the sweet taste of victory is within my grasp. Are your feelings getting hurt, Parse? After all, you only have two cups left. And I have, oh, let's see, 1 2 3 4, I have five cups. You must feel so inadequate right now."

"Cute thing, if I were feeling inadequate, it would be a first. I've always been good enough for everything. And if you gave me the time of day instead of spending all your days wasting your life on Shitty fucking Knight, I could do you good too."

A part of Noah wanted to slap him, but the other half wished that he was the person being flirted with instead of Lardo.

Lardo rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You're just looking for someone who'll put out. What, did both of your hands stop working?"

Everyone around the table began to freak out at Lardo's comeback. "THAT WAS SICK!" yelled Ryan, laughing and grabbing onto the person on his right for support to keep standing.

Noah watched as Parse did a 180 and turned to face the people behind him, who were mostly laughing. Noah instinctively smirked at Parse, who, in return, smiled back. He quickly mouthed "talk later" to Noah, whose heart began to flutter in his chest.

Then Parse turned back around, cracking his knuckles. "I'll show you what I can do with my hands, Lardo."

* * *

After an upset in Lardo's favor, Noah said goodbye to Ryan, who had found a buddy to make out with for the remainder of the hour, and then turned to Parse with the same smile he had flashed him previously. "Hey, you wanted to talk to me?" Noah asked once he got to Parse.

Parse nodded. "Yeah. Couldn't help but notice you checking me out. Aren't you thirsty?" He began to laugh. The sound of his laughter wasn't entirely 100% pleasant, but it wasn't like the sound of nails scraping against a chalkboard. He didn't even seem to notice Noah beginning to sweat at the question. "Well? You gonna answer me? Were you interested or not?"

Noah blinked a few times before looking down at the slightly shorter man and nodding. "Maybe a little. B-But, that doesn't make me gay or anything, I'm just-" Noah began to ramble, trying more and more desperately to not let Parse know that he was thinking of him in a romantic context.

"Dude, it's cool. It's called bisexuality, by the way. Actual thing. If you're into both guys and girls, that's not technically being gay. I once had a boyfriend who was bisexual. The greatest butt you'd ever seen. Absolutely fucking fantastic ass. Anyway, since you're interested, I figured we'd talk a little. Maybe get to know each other." Parse seemed nice enough for now, but he was a little too flirty almost out of the gate for Noah's comfort.

Noah shrugged. "I mean, if you want to, I won't hold it against you. But I don't think people around here are going to take too kindly to two guys talking about each other. Might get the wrong idea."

Parse rolled his eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me? Dude, it's nothing to worry about. So, you're bisexual. I'm gay. What does it matter? Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I'm interested too. You've got nice muscles, a pretty decent looking butt from what I've seen, and you seem nice enough, so I'm giving you a shot, kid. Where'll it be first?" Parse made a vague point towards a location of the house that Noah couldn't decipher as he spoke. "I'm thinking we skip straight to the bedrooms."

The color of Noah's face turned instantly twenty shades of pink and red darker than it had previously been. "U-Uh, what the hell do you mean by that?"

"Only innocent things, I promise. It's supposed to be the quietest place in the house to talk, which is kinda why I chose it. It's easier to think."

A nod in agreement from Noah was all that Parse needed.

* * *

"So, what's your astrological sign?" asked Parse.

"Scorpio."

"Mine's Capricorn. Apparently we'll go together great. Or at least, that's what I'd say if I believed in that stupid horoscope shit. Whatever the fuck it means. Seriously, who looked at their birthday and said, 'Huh, I bet because my birthday is today, I'll marry someone whose birthday's in fuckin' April.' That's honestly bullshit." Parse put his cup to his lips and took a sip.

Noah shrugged. "I never paid that much attention to it. Seemed like somethin' only girls or feminine dudes would do. Not really my style." He watched Parse as he set the cup down onto the table and gave him an odd look.

Even though he was giving Noah dagger looks, he still looked attractive as all get-out. Noah had it bad, and he knew it. It was alarming how quickly he'd grown attached to this guy. He'd abandoned Ryan, one of the only friends he'd ever known, to talk to this guy he'd barely met who he just so happened to think was hot. Every single thing that Noah had previously thought was right or wrong had been thrown out the window within the span of a single night, and here he was, with the man that started it all. It was infuriating that he was so attracted to Parse, but he couldn't help it. It was just the way that things had seemed to work out that evening.

"Whatever. I'm still kinda ticked that you're THIS homophobic, but I guess it doesn't really matter? I mean, I'm still into you, dude."

Crimson began to flush Noah's face. "Uh, thanks I think? But uh, what makes you think that I'm being homophobic? I'm not scared of gay people. I'm not even scared of bisexual people."

"Then why the hell are you acting like a nervous fucking wreck around me, Noah Clark?" Parse looked with a cocked eyebrow and a grin on his face.

There was really no good answer that came to mind. "I don't really know what you mean. I'm not trying to act like a crack addict, but I'm..." Noah racked his brain trying to not say it, but there was no other way that he could put it into words. "Fuck it, I'm scared. You're right. I'm scared of being gay. I'm scared of being considered homosexual. I'm scared of what other people think of me. I'm scared of people questioning my masculinity because I might be into dudes. I'm scared of you because you're so attractive and I don't want either of us to be judged for anything."

Parse's grin got even wider. "That's more like it. I think you're even hotter when you're not being a fucking liar." His arm reached behind Noah and around his shoulders. "D'you mind if I just make out with you a little?"

The question caught Noah off-guard, but he nodded nonetheless. As Parse leaned forward, Noah closed the gap, his eyes closed in anticipation.

Parse's lips were chapped and scabbed, but that didn't make the first kiss any less pleasant. Immediately, Noah felt Parse's tongue attempt to gain entry into his mouth, and Noah granted it. Noah let out a little bit of a yelp at the suddenness. Parse, on the other hand, let out a satisfied-sounding hum in approval. Noah wasn't exactly ecstatic about it, but it wasn't an unpleasant experience by any means. There were no fireworks, no heated passions arising between the two, no movie-worthy moments. It was just a kiss, and it wasn't like either of them had never been kissed or kissed another person before. They had just never done so with each other, and their styles clashed briefly.

Parse was the one to pull away first. "Uh, that was... not bad, I guess? A little tame for my tastes, but then again, I wasn't exactly expecting you to be an idiot savant at my technique. But don't worry. The night's still young. We have lots of time to practice."

The shade of red lingering on Noah's cheeks turned even brighter. If Kent Parson was insinuating what he believed he was, this was going to make for a very interesting night.

* * *

At four in the morning, Kent Parson woke up next to Noah Clark, whose eyes were wide open, looking at the blond beside him. "Uh, hey, I guess. Mornin', or whatever you usually say after you take it up the ass."

Parse let out a snort of laughter. "Jesus, you make it sound so casual. I can imagine the headlines: 'Local Hockey Superstar Likes To Enter Through The Back Door.' That's a bestseller." His hand traced patterns against Noah's stomach. "But then again, it wasn't exactly like YOU were the one on the bottom all the time, Noah Clark." His eyes locked with Noah's and their fingers intertwined. "You're not all that bad at either position, I've gotta say. And you screaming my name? That was fucking hot. I've never heard someone yell it quite the way that you do. It's like your voice was made for it."

"Ah yes, because I'm clearly only made to take your hockey stick in my goal post."

"Puck off, jackass. You could've had the company of your hand and the lingering memory of a fucking legend tonight, so you should be honored that I was even gracious enough to offer my services." The two of them laughed, Parse's arm moving with the lean muscles of Noah's abdomen.

"Y'know, you'd make a great hockey player," Parse said, his fingers beginning to create more and more pathways on Noah's skin. "You're already muscular, you're just aggressive enough, and you can scream like nobody's business."

Noah groaned. "You're more of a screamer than I am, Parson. It wasn't exactly like I was attempting to let the entire house party know that I was starring in my own semi-porno with a local hero."

"Well you weren't being quiet about it either."

Noah rolled his eyes, his hand resting on top of Parse's. "You're an asshole, you know that?" he said, looking down at the disheveled mess of blond hair right underneath his chin. "And no, that wasn't an invitation to make jokes about us having sex." Parse's mouth shut, and he looked up at Noah with puppy-dog eyes, almost as though he were pleading to make the jokes once again. "But... damn. That was... Wow."

"I get that a lot."

Noah grabbed the pillow that had once been on Parse's side of the bed and smacked him. "Shut up! You weren't THAT good. I could find ten-thousand other guys that would probably be better than you in bed."

Parse raised his hand to grab onto the pillow that had just previously been used to thrash him and, with a devilish glint in his eye, asked, "Could you really keep any guy, though?"

Noah's grip on the pillow loosened as well as his defenses. "What the hell d'you mean by that?"

"I mean, since you're so scared of being attracted to guys, can you really ever handle being with one, like... for the long-term? Even though you just fucked me, and I'd say you did a pretty decent job all things considered, would you ever be able to do more than just have sex with a random guy? Would you ever be able to look a dude straight in the face and tell him that you loved him? Would you ever be able to settle down and move in with somebody even if they had a penis? Would you ever get down on one knee and propose to your boyfriend?"

He looked sincere, even though he had just been joking a second ago. Noah shrugged. "I mean, I'm not exactly sure right now. After all, I literally just had my first gay experience a couple hours ago. But if all guys are as two-faced as you, I'm not exactly sure."

Parse looked offended for a split second before turning to a smug expression. "Why thank you, Mr. Clark. I'm glad to know that it was just as thought provoking and enlightening for you as it was for me!" His face then went darkly serious. "Look, buddy. None of us are fuckin' saints. It's life. We've all got baggage. We all have our own demons. And you don't know what the fuck mine are, so before you judge me, I'd rather choke on my own nonexistent self pity."

Noah had never heard someone sound so completely venomous in their words before. He wasn't sure if he liked it, but damn if it wasn't getting him hard. "Not all of us deal with our daddy issues by being a selfish prick, Kent fucking Parson."

"Oh yeah? Well not all of us deal with our baggage by going out and fucking the first random chump they meet, Noah fucking Clark."

"I fucking hate you so much."

"Are you ready for round two?"

* * *

At nine that very same morning, Noah got the first call from Izzy. He let it go to voicemail, because he was currently in the midst of getting over the fact that he had just hatefucked someone. It was an eerie feeling, being satisfied but also feeling guiltier than you had ever felt in your entire life. Kent Parson was not to be underestimated, that was definitely for sure.

At ten, he got the second call. Noah let it go to voicemail once again, because he was currently in the midst of making out with Kent Parson for the third time that morning. Noah hated the fact that he loved it so much. It was like an exhilarating rush on a rollercoaster, followed by the empty feeling in the pit of your stomach once you turned a loop. He felt so good in the moment, but later on in the day, he would be hating himself for doing it.

At ten thirty, the third call got saved in his voicemail, because he was currently in the midst of sleeping away his own thoughts.

At eleven, the fourth call was answered by a one Kent Parson, because Noah was still in the midst of sleeping. "Hello?" Parse asked.

"Yeah, where the hell were you? I've been trying to call for two hours, you shitlord!"

"Um, who the hell exactly are you? I don't think you have any right calling me a shitlord. I do that myself enough, thank you very much. And I also heard that a lot from my partner last night, whom I believe this phone belongs to."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you? I don't have to explain myself to you, asshole!"

Parse clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Honey, I'm surprised you don't know me by the sound of my voice. The name's Kent Parson, I'm kind of a big deal. Now, as I was asking, who the hell exactly are you?"

Izzy let out a frustrated yell on the other end. "My name's Izzy Clark. I'm Noah's sister. Y'know, the guy whose phone you stole? The guy you just lied to me about sleeping with last night?"

Parse shook his head, knowing full well that Izzy wouldn't be able to see him. "I'm sorry darlin', but I'm many things, and a liar isn't one of them. I'm a bitch, an asshole, a douchebag, a lover... but liar is unfortunately not on that long list. Plus, you can just keep the phone stealing thing between you and me if at all possible. I would appreciate it, princess."

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING PRINCESS?" Izzy yelled, clearly very angered by Parse's words. "YOU NEED TO HANG THE FUCK UP OR GET NOAH ON THE PHONE BECAUSE I NEED TO HAVE A STERN TALKING TO HIM."

"I'll let the big guy know some insignificant bitch tried to contact him once he wakes up from the sex coma."

And with that, Parse hung up on Izzy, then crawled back into the bed, nuzzling against one of Noah's arms as though nothing had happened.

At twelve, Noah woke up. "Mornin', beautiful," Parse said, a smile as thick as sunshine on his face. "You've got a killer 'o' face, I forgot to mention. I could just stare at you like that forever. It's even better than your normal face. Just throwing that out there. What d'you want for breakfast?"

Noah rubbed the sleep from his eyes and immediately grabbed onto his clothes. "I'll just go home for breakfast. It'll be fine. I live pretty closeby. But uh... thanks for the," Noah cleared his throat, "y'know. That."

"You mean my dick? You can just say it, it won't matter. Everyone that'll hear you is either asleep or hungover."

"Trust me, it's not that great, Parson."

With that, Noah finished putting on his hoodie and walked out of the room, out of Kent Parson's life and back to his house, where he was safe from being ridiculed by hot idiots with blond hair and black snapbacks.


End file.
